Jade Innocence
by Rainne
Summary: IHQ sends a new teammate from a secret sector of the Kids Next Door. But is she who she says she is?
1. IHQ's show

Disclaimer: Still own nada.... **sigh**  
  
A/N: I know I said the "Weapon" continuation would be my last KND fanfic for a while, but I can't get this idea out of my head. Plus I just came up with a perfect beginning, and, let's face it, how rare is THAT?! I can't let an opportunity like this just pass me by! So, here goes, my (technically) third Codename: Kids Next Door fanfic, hope you all enjoy!  
  
As always, stuff in these are thoughts.  
  
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Nigel Uno, much better known as Numbuh 1, nearly dropped the communiqué after he sped-read it.  
  
"Have IHQ lost their minds?!" he cried out, blinking in disbelief at the paper, "I HAVE to discuss this with the others." Without a moment's hesitation, Numbuh 1 darted from array of computers to the P.A system. Pressing down hard on the button that would project his voice through the entire labyrinth that was the treehouse and his team's KND headquarters he shouted, "Kids Next Door, meet in the common area immediately! Everyone drop whatever you are doing and come to the common area, NOW!" Feeling he'd gotten his message across, Numbuh 1 sprinted from the room and began making his way to the common area.  
  
:::  
  
Numbuh 5 glanced up from her magazine at 1's almost frantic tone. She knew as well as any of her teammates that it wasn't too difficult to fluster their courageous leader, but she couldn't help but feel something was up, something big. So she smoothly leapt from her bed the instant the message had ceased and ran to join Numbuh 1.  
  
:::  
  
Numbuh 2 stopped mid-bite at the sound of his leader's anxious call.  
  
"Aw, man! Do I havta'?" he complained to no one in particular. His stomach growled along with him. He patted it morosely, "Guess we're gonna have ta hold off on lunch just a bit longer, buddy," he said and carefully placed his foot-long sub sandwich on the kitchen table. His stomach continued its spirited campaign, but he did his best to ignore it. 2 hadn't had anything to eat since morning due to a lightning strike of inspiration for a more agile set of wings for himself and his teammates and had consequently been working for hours. Numbuh 2 was nothing if not dedicated to his work. But he was made nervous by the urgent call, and so hurried to the common area as fast as he could.  
  
:::  
  
"What the cruddy-?" Numbuh 4's protest of 1's announcement was cut off as the punching bag swung back from an earlier kick and knocked the small Aussie off his feet. Cursing the piece of equipment with all the foul language he knew, 4 got back on his feet, "What is it THIS time?" he grumbled, but, with a few more especially punishing blows to the bag, climbed down from his wrestling mat/occasional bed/exercise area and jogged toward the common area.  
  
:::  
  
"Wha?" Numbuh 3 cocked an ear at the announcement, "Drop whatever you're doing?" She glanced around at the elaborate tea party she'd recently commenced. Nearly all of her stuffed animals, bears and rainbow monkeys being the most dominant, sat in chairs around a large, circular table, waiting for their hostess to cater to them. Numbuh 3 sighed unhappily, "Sorry, everyone," she apologized with as much composure and sincerity as she could muster, "but I gotta go, duty calls." With that, 3 left her carefully arranged luncheon and began the long walk to the common area.  
  
:::  
  
"What the blazes is it, Numbuh 1?!" 4 shouted irritably once all five Kids Next Door were assembled.  
  
"Yeah," 3 cried with nearly as indignance, "You interrupted my party! I've been planning it for weeks!" The last word came out in a high-pitched squeak. Numbuh 3 was truly peeved, which was quite a feat in itself.  
  
Numbuh 2 patted his growling stomach, "Couldja' make it quick, Numbuh 1?" he asked with less fire, "It's 2 o'clock, 'n I haven't eaten since breakfast-"  
  
"If ya' let da man speak," 5 interrupted, "this'd all be ova' wid' much faster!" The other three silenced, but the dark girl still waited a moment before nodding at Numbuh 1 "Good, go on, boss. Tell us wassup?"  
  
"Thank you, Numbuh 5," 1 said from his podium, "Kids Next Door, I just got this communiqué from International Headquarters." The paper was passed around, and by the time it made it back to Numbuh 1, all four children wore dumbfounded expressions.  
  
"W-well," Numbuh 3 stuttered, "We get a new teammate. Uh- yay!" She was trying to put the best face on the situation, but her fellow Kids Next Door weren't exactly in the mood.  
  
"Who eva' 'eard of the Teen Division anyways?" Numbuh 4 said, "Ah sure 'aven't, 'ave you, Numbuh 1?"  
  
"No, Numbuh 4," the boy answered, "I haven't, and it makes me very nervous. That's why I called you all down here."  
  
"How much older did they say they were gonna be?" 2 asked.  
  
"They didn't," 1 replied, sounding tired, "I know as much as you do, which is everything on this piece of paper." He held up the communiqué by the corner, as if loathe to touch it.  
  
"Well," Numbuh 5 eventually said, "'S not like there's anythang we can do 'bout it. Dis IHQ's show, ya' know, we just follow da orders. Guess all we CAN do's be polite when whoevuh' they send shows up."  
  
"Ah'll be polite," Numbuh 4 grumbled, "But Ah don't trust those teenagers. They're nuthin' but mini-adults, they are. Can't trust 'em." He said the last part quieter, almost to himself, as if reiterating a firm belief.  
  
"He or she is supposed to arrive tomorrow, though it doesn't say when, big surprise." Numbuh 1 stepped down from his podium. He was more than a little upset at IHQ for saddling their team with a teenager of all things, but he wouldn't complain. 5 was right, it WAS IHQ's show, they pulled the strings and could make any changes they wanted. It was just so bloody irritating sometimes... "I suppose we ought to make up a room for our new teammate." The whole team felt a tremor at the sound of this teenager's title, because of the truth in it. There would be no denying it, they had their orders, and that meant they'd have a teenager in their midst by that time tomorrow.  
  
:::  
  
The sound of the doorbell echoed through the treehouse. The vibration of sound was almost visible in the delicate early-morning air. It was almost 7 o'clock, and NONE of the Kids Next Door were even close to awake. But the bell kept ringing, making the air tremble as it slowly worked through the treehouse. It pushed its way into each of the children's rooms, and upon reaching their ears forced into their deep slumber until, no matter how hard they squeezed their eyes or moaned against it, they were awake. Numbuh 1 was the first to trudge out of his room and make the plodding journey to the front door.  
  
He was perplexed for a moment when he opened the door to see nothing but a torso before his eyes. After blinking a few times, he eventually tilted his head upwards to take in the face that went along with the torso.  
  
"You're tall," he said groggily.  
  
The face smiled, "Yeah," it said, "I get that a lot. My name's Danica Warbutton, or Numbuh .19, may I come in?"  
  
1 shifted out of the entrance without question, though a few floated around his sleep-addled brain. The teenager took his action as compliance and walked a few feet into the house that was the base of headquarters, hefting a large suitcase over the threshold.  
  
"Nice place," she said after surveying it for a minute.  
  
"Thanks," 1 replied as he shut the door, "Come on, you haven't seen headquarters yet." His drowsiness was fading, and slight irritation had set in. Politeness be damned, he thought, No one in their right mind goes 'round knocking at this hour. But he didn't voice his objections, he was awake enough to keep some of his manners.  
  
They entered the homemade elevator that had been one of the team's earliest accomplishments in their long history of building the treehouse. The teenager, Numbuh .19, said nothing, only glanced around the elevator in curiosity, examining the controls and the make of the walls and doors. Numbuh 1 was beginning to feel uncomfortable conducting such important Kids Next Door business in his jammies and wished desperately for his sunglasses. 1 and .19 stepped out of the elevator when it stopped smoothly at the treehouse common area.  
  
"Wow," .19 breathed, leaving her suitcase just outside the elevator and turning as she walked into the room so she could take in everything, "This place is amazing."  
  
Numbuh 1 couldn't help but smile with pride as he too glanced around his HQ. And he had every right to be proud of the glorious structure; he and his team had made it with their bare hands. It was their pride and joy, "Thank you."  
  
"I mean," .19 continued, "They TOLD me you guys would be well provisioned, but I never expected- THIS..."  
  
Numbuh 1 watched the teenager as she continued to inspect the common area. It was a very strange sight since she was so tall, and the architecture was made for ten year olds. She had to stoop to enter the kitchen, something Numbuh 1 was sure he'd never not find amusing. The girl had dark, straight hair, not as dark as 5's or 3's, since she was white, but a good solid brown, not a hint of a manufactured highlight he'd seen so often on teenagers. She wore a light blue shirt of some loose-fitting cotton material and dark jeans. She also held a small bag by the strap. A purse no doubt, Numbuh 1 shuddered.  
  
"Let me show you to your room," 1 called out and .19 exited the kitchen to grab her suitcase and follow him into the team's sleeping quarters. He passed the numbered doors of his teammates stopped at a door marked with a large, red T.  
  
"What's the T stand for?" she asked.  
  
"Teenager," 1 replied without further explanation.  
  
Inside the room was not much more than a closet, a desk, and a bed by the one window, but Numbuh 1 didn't look to see if .19 was disappointed. In fact, he vaguely hoped she was, maybe she'd leave. The kinder feelings he'd experienced at her obvious admiration of the treehouse had faded into the familiar distrust he'd acquired when first hearing of her eminent arrival.  
  
"It's not much," he made the half-hearted attempt to be a good host, "but-"  
  
"It's perfect," .19 said before he could finish, which was good since he wasn't sure how he was going to end the sentiment. The teenager walked into the room and turned to him with a wide grin, "I think this'll be good," she said to him, "For both of us." He wanted to ask what she meant, but she was already ushering him out of the room, "I'll talk to you later, you look like you could use some more shut-eye. I'll call you when breakfast is ready."  
  
"For both of us?" 1 murmured with a furrowed brow as he was walked backwards through the door, "Um, shut-eye, yes. Breakfast?" But by the time he got out the last questioning word, the door was shut in front of him. He blinked a bit, and, suddenly remembering his sleepiness, wandered back to his room leaving Numbuh .19 to do as she wished in the treehouse.  
  
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A/N: Alright, next chapter: the rest of the team meets Numbuh .19! Which I think I'll start now, you lucky dogs, you. Oh, and I didn't take the name Warbutton from Warburton (although Warburton IS listed on my computer spell check, weird huh?). Well, I kinda did. See, when I was first watching Codename: Kids Next Door, I saw the name Warburton and actually thought it was Warbutton at first, but soon figured out what it really was. My brother and I both agreed Warbutton would be a funny name to have, and so, knowing I'd probably never actually meet a Warbutton, I decided to make my own. Clever, no? Review if you've got the time, you registered folks know how awesome reviews are. 


	2. The Uncle Nobody Likes to Talk About

A/N: Hey gang! Since I'm really into this story, I'm cranking out the second chapter before I gotta go to sleep. Don't you just LOVE me? Don't have much to say for this chapter, except thanks to for the quick reviews, Melody Hoshi Sugar and Vtbots. You'll be happy to know that this IS the chapter where the rest of the team meets this unknown teenager, Numbuh .19. What's up with her? What's up with the decimal numbers? We'll find out in THIS installment of- o wait, I haven't quite come up with a title for this fic yet. O well, read and review and enjoy anyway!  
  
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"Breakfast!" came the cheery call of an older female voice over the PA system. This time it only took around fifteen minutes for the five children to rouse themselves enough to make it to the kitchen. Once there, they were immediately wide-awake as they viewed the tantalizing banquet of breakfast foods carefully arranged on their very kitchen table. They were content to simply munch on leftovers from the previous day, or, if they were awake enough, pour a bowl of cereal or make some eggs. But this- THIS was, unexpected, to say the least.  
  
"Dig in!" .19 said with a smile before turning back to the stove. She was cleaning the countertops with a damp rag, humming all the while. Each of the children cautiously lowered themselves in their respective chairs among the plates of eggs, pancakes, bacon, waffles, bagels, fruit, and any other imaginable morning fare. It was like being the guests of honor at a hotel buffet, and it was all the Kids Next Door could do to keep from drooling into their laps.  
  
Eventually, .19 finished her chores and took a seat as well, "Hi," she properly greeted her new teammates, "I'm Numbuh .19, from the Teen Division. I can see you all weren't expecting me this early." She was answered by five dull stares, "Yeah, sorry about that. I'm an early riser," she said with a self-deprecating shrug, "what can I say? I suppose that's just one more reason I won't fit in well around here." She looked down at her plate, an air of sadness seeming to weigh down her shoulders, "But hey- don't let the food get cold, dig in."  
  
The children looked from one another, gradually settling on Numbuh 1 for guidance. 1 also glanced around at them, and hesitantly took a bowl of scrambled eggs and spooned a pile onto his plate. The boy gingerly tasted the eggs, chewing them thoroughly, however unnecessary it may have been, and swallowing them. His eyebrows shot up from behind his sunglasses and in seconds he was eagerly shoveling the eggs into his mouth. The other four children smiled and each grabbed for a respective breakfast favorite and commenced chowing down. Numbuh .19 sat back in her chair and smiled slightly, watching her teammates readily consuming her food before taking any for herself.  
  
"So," Numbuh 4 said through a mouthful of syrupy waffles. He had instantly felt much friendlier as .19's food settled into his stomach, "what's all this business with the Teen Division? None uh us've eva' 'eard of ya'."  
  
"Yeah," 5 chimed in, "Wassup wid' dat? Yo' some kinda secret organization or sumthin'?"  
  
.19 paused and looked up from her plate of pancakes, "Well," she said with a sigh, "Lemme put it this way," 1, 2, and 3 joined the conversation, watching .19, "If the entire Kids Next Door organization was a family, we're the uncle nobody talks about."* She returned to her food without another word.  
  
The children were silent, processing this information. The uncle nobody talks about, none of them could pretend to not understand what she meant. Suddenly they weren't so hungry.  
  
"Why?" Numbuh 3, who understood the least of the five, asked.  
  
Numbuh .19 had to smile at the Asian girl's naiveté. Ah, to be ten again, "Because of the way we handle our end of things."  
  
"And how exactly is that?" Numbuh 1 inquired with genuine curiosity, though tinged with suspicion.  
  
"We don't run like the rest of the KND," .19 said, "That's why we use the decimals for our codenames. See, the whole reason IHQ doesn't like to talk about us," her face abruptly turned bitter, "barely acknowledge our existence, matter of fact," she smiled again, ridding herself of the unexpected pain that marred her features, "is because we work closely with the police."  
  
"The police?" 2 asked. He, along with any other Kid Next Door, had mixed feelings about the police. He understood that they helped keep people safe, but they were adults nonetheless, and that made them untrustworthy.  
  
"Yeah," .19 continued, "We don't just focus on the minor bad things done to kids by adults. See, when you get older, when you learn a bit and see a bit more of the world, you'll understand that there's way worse evil out there than, say, being forced to take piano lessons." 4 couldn't help an involuntary shudder, "The Teen Division deals with that kind of stuff, and it makes our grand and mighty leaders very nervous."  
  
"Why would it make them nervous?" 1 pressed, "What could be so bad?"  
  
.19 looked at Numbuh 1, her blue eyes full of sadness, "I can't tell you, and you have to find out by yourself,"she said, "It wouldn't be right of me to take away your innocence now, you're not ready. None of you are," she said before Numbuh 4 could protest, "Believe that the worst an adult can do to you is make you stay in school year-round, God forbid," she added, seeing the obvious discomfort such a horrible thought caused the ten year olds, "Just know that you don't have to worry about anything like what my operatives and I worry about, not yet."  
  
Silence fell and the five children and one teenager continued to eat. Numbuh 1 was slightly thunderstruck at the thought of the kind of horrors .19 must have witnessed. What could possibly be so bad that just hearing it would strip 1 of his innocence?! His mind spun with possibilities, none of them even remotely close to the truth. But he didn't know that.  
  
"But if what you do is so important," Numbuh 1 said, "Why are you here? Shouldn't you be with your own team, fighting whatever it is you people fight?"  
  
"IHQ decided it would be best to integrate the Teen Division with the other Kid Next Door teams. Each team will get a Teen Division operative of their very own." Her voice had turned bitter again, "Actually, we're all the guinea pigs, the first to see if their idea will really work, so we'd better not screw it up, huh?" Numbuh 1 nodded his agreement, and the team finished their delicious breakfast.  
  
:::  
  
Numbuh 1 held a private meeting of only the senior Kids Next Door operatives, not in the common area as usual, but in his room. .19 wasn't invited.  
  
"So," 1 said from atop his bed, "What do you all think of our new teammate?"  
  
The other four were silent for a beat, all trying to put into words the emotions felt at the mention of her name, "She cooks good," 2 settled on.  
  
"She don't seem too bad," Numbuh 4 added.  
  
"Yeah, she's nice," 3 said with a warm grin.  
  
5 shrugged indifferently, "Whatevuh'. Long as she stays outta Numbuh 5's space, she don't see no problem wid' keepin' her here."  
  
"Overall, I agree," 1 said, "But nevertheless, I want a close watch kept on our new member for at least a few days, just to be sure she's not a spy. Numbuh 5, you're our resident stealth operative, I'm assigning you to keep an eye on .19 until further notice."  
  
"Aw, man, c'mon!" 5 cried in protest, "Don't make Numbuh 5 babysit da teenager! She got bettuh' thangs to do wid' her time den spy on some borin' teenager."  
  
"I'm sorry, Numbuh 5, but that wasn't a request- that was an order. You won't be on full duty, just maybe at night and when she leaves the treehouse. But I would like at least one of us to be around her at all hours, just in case. Are we all clear?" The team grumbled a bit but agreed that this was the best course of action. They broke up the meeting and went their separate ways, 5 deciding there was no time like the present and heading toward .19's room.  
  
:::  
  
"Yes?" 5 heard .19 answer from behind her T labeled door.  
  
"'S Numbuh 5. Can I come in?"  
  
"Sure." 5 pushed open the door to see .19 sitting cross-legged on her bed, although she couldn't really tell she was cross-legged because books and papers covered the teenager's entire lap and also a good portion of the bed itself.  
  
"What ARE you doin', girl?" 5 nearly shouted as she stared at the spread of literature.  
  
"Homework," .19 answered simply.  
  
Numbuh 5 gapped, "Homework? HOMEWORK?! Girl, dat ain't homework, dat's da research it takes ta make an atomic bomb!"  
  
.19 only laughed, "It's homework in high school."  
  
"How old ARE you?" Numbuh 5 queried.  
  
"Sixteen."  
  
5 was aghast, "SIXTEEN?! Daaaamn, dat's old!" .19 laughed some more, "So," 5 continued, "You can drive, right?"  
  
.19 nodded, "More or less, yeah, I can drive."  
  
Numbuh 5 fell into a chair, feeling exhausted from the overload of information. She's in high school! You get THAT much homework in high school? She's SIXTEEN! She can drive... The last thought brought a sly grin to 5's face.  
  
"You can drive..." she said slowly.  
  
"Yeah, it's sorta why I'm here."  
  
This pulled Numbuh 5 from her thoughts, "Huh?"  
  
"Well, think of how many more places you can get in now, with me around. Not to sound conceited or anything," she said quickly, "But you'll all look a lot more credible with an adult- well, semi-adult to back you up. Real adults may hate us, but they'll trust us a helluva lot faster than a bunch of kids, it's just a fact."  
  
Numbuh 5 nodded grudgingly, "Yeah, Numbuh 5 s'poses you right."  
  
"Hey," .19 said after a moment, "You like magazines?"  
  
5 looked up at the girl with a smile, "Does Numbuh 5 like magazines," she said with false-mocking, as if .19 should've been fully briefed on Numbuh 5's intense love for magazines, "Heck yeah, pass one of dose babies ovuh'!"  
  
.19 smiled and, removing the books from her lap, bent over the side of her bed to pull two mags from the suitcase at the foot of the furniture, "I could use a break," she said, tossing one to Numbuh 5, "Enjoy your time in elementary school, cuz trig's a bitch."  
  
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A/N: I think that's all I'm gonna put out for a bit, I'm getting sleepy. So, what do ya think of Numbuh .19? Does she work? Does she NEED some work? Review please and let me know!  
  
*That line was borrowed (and slightly tampered with) from the incredible drama Conspiracy Theory. If you like Patrick Stewart, Mel Gibson (and tell me exactly who doesn't??), and/or Julia Roberts, check this flick out. I swear to God, it's all of their best work. Except maybe Patrick Stewart, and that's only cuz he kicked some dramatic ass in A Christmas Carol. 


	3. Retreat

A/N: Sorry for the delay for chapter 2, for many technical reasons I couldn't upload it until around three minutes ago. So, anyways, here's chapter three, where the intrigue, etc. will begin. Enjoy!  
  
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Two days passed before the team's next significant mission spat out of the fax machine from IHQ. It seemed a local ice cream shop was being demolished only to be replaced by, horror of horrors to any kid under 13, a dentist's office. Numbuh 1 cringed just reading it, and called the team to the common area.  
  
"Ugh," 2 murmured in disgust, "How low can ya' get? Destroyin' a perfectly good ice cream shop for a-" he shuddered, "DENTIST'S office."  
  
"Low enough to require intervention, Numbuh 2," 1 responded solemnly.  
  
"So what's the plan, Numbuh 1?" .19 said, leaning forward in her seat in the round of couches. The rest of the team too looked at their leader.  
  
"The plan is to keep the demolition vehicles from every reaching their destination. We'll head them off in Numbuh 2's new armored tank, driven by .19 with the assistance of 2 and 3, while 5, 4, and I will neutralize the vehicles. Any questions?" The team had none, and so at the sound of 1's stirring cry of, "Kids Next Door, MOVE OUT!" the six sprang to action.  
  
:::  
  
The sun shone brightly over the mountainous region in which the battle was to take place. From a mile away one could have heard the rumbling of the massive wrecking ball and two backhoes as they traversed the narrow highway cut into the side of a particular mountain. In fact, their cacophony was so loud they never heard the wood/metal hybrid tank come up behind them, let alone the near silent hang-gliders that swooped above.  
  
"Ha ha!" 4 shouted into the small microphone placed by his mouth, "These chumps'll neva' know what hit 'em! Let's rock 'n roll, Numbuh 1!"  
  
The Brit, along with all the other Kids Next Door, winced as his teammate's loud words caused his earpiece to shriek painfully, "Yes, Numbuh 4, in a moment," he said curtly. Then to .19 in the tank, "Numbuh .19, are you a go in there?"  
  
The teenager shifted a few of the many levers that operated the tank as 2 and 3 loaded missiles into the cannons that poked out like straws from either side of the tank, "Aye aye, cap'n," she replied with an unseen salute before pulling down a wooden periscope to check her direction. Her legs were terribly cramped in the cabin of the tank, and the vehicle's tread left something to be desired. .19 could barely see out of the periscope for the tank's violent bouncing along the uneven highway.  
  
"Numbuh 2?" .19 called into the tank's belly.  
  
The heavy boy carefully walked to the tank's front, leaving 3 to finish loading the missiles "Yeah?"  
  
"Could ya' keep an eye out of the periscope, okay? I'm having a hard enough time steering this beast without losing an eye trying to keep position."  
  
2 glanced back to 3 and saw her give him the thumbs-up from inside her green sweater, the missiles were ready, "Yeah, sure." He squinted into the periscope, flicking at its controls to widen his view, "Oh wow! They're really goin' at it up there!"  
  
He was right. 1 had given the command to attack the enemy vehicles. He himself went after the two smaller backhoes, while 4 and 5 he sent together to take out the immense wrecking ball. Reaching into his backpack, he pulled out two Molotov cocktail-like homemade explosives and positioned himself above the first backhoe.  
  
"Numbuh 1 in position," he stated into his microphone, "Releasing explosives." Just after letting go of the small canisters, he couldn't stop himself from shouting, "Bombs away!"  
  
"No kiddin', boss," came 5's apathetic response, "Now hurry up wid dose baby thangs and help us out wid dis wreckin' ball."  
  
1 smiled despite Numbuh 5's lack of enthusiasm and quickly dispatched the second backhoe with another batch of explosives. The two flaming wrecks halted on the shoulders of the highway. Numbuh 1 banked to the left and circled around to join the fray. 5 and 4 were swooping madly to avoid what appeared to be missiles of being fired from inside the wrecking ball. One of the enemy projectiles hit the side of the mountain just as Numbuh 4 glided out of the way. A burst of white-hot flame left a smoking black stain on the rock.  
  
"What in the world?!" 1 cried as he suddenly found himself being fired upon, "They're not supposed to have missiles!"  
  
"You're tellin' me!" Numbuh 4 gripped as he glanced around his glider for damage.  
  
"What do we do, Numbuh 1?!" 5 cried as she too narrowly avoided incineration by the fiery missiles.  
  
".19, 2, 3," Numbuh 1 shouted into his mouthpiece, "We need cover NOW!!"  
  
"Got it!" 2 said as he watched from the periscope.  
  
"What's happening?!" asked Numbuh 3 fearfully. She wrenched open the hatch in the tank's ceiling, revealing the dogfight above them, "Oh no!"  
  
Numbuh 2 turned from the periscope, and just as he did one of the backhoes' gas tanks exploded, sending debris flying into the air. A piece struck the top of the periscope, making it suddenly turn, and smartly strike Numbuh 2 in the back of the head. The boy slumped to the tank's floor, knocked unconscious.  
  
"Numbuh 2?" .19 said from her frantic pulling on the controls to compensate for the explosion, "Numbuh 2?!"  
  
"Numbuh 2's hurt!" cried 3.  
  
"What?!" .19 shouted, "I don't know how to fire the missiles, Numbuh 3!"  
  
"Well I don't either!" the Asian girl replied with growing anxiety. She bent over the cataleptic boy, "Numbuh 2? Oh, wake up, Numbuh 2! We need you!" She shook him by the shoulders, but he stayed firmly out for the count.  
  
.19 searched among the controls for any sign of a way to fire the missiles. There were several different buttons and switches among the levers, but none seemed too likely a choice for weaponry. Suddenly she remembered her mouthpiece, "Numbuh 1, Numbuh 1," she said into it, "2's hurt, he can't fire the missiles. You're gonna have to walk me through it."  
  
"What? Whoa-" Numbuh 1 just barely avoided another missile. He'd hoped that eventually the enemy would run out of ammunition, but the onslaught had only worsened. Machine gun fire joined the fireballs; chasing the three Kids Next Door like a cat chases a mouse.  
  
"2's hurt," .19 repeated, "Tell me how to fire the missiles."  
  
"2's hurt?!" 1 said incredulously, "Uh, yes, alright. The missiles, um..." He tried to think back to when Numbuh 2 and he had discussed the tank's schematics.  
  
"Anytime, Numbuh 1," .19 said impatiently, "Unless you're enjoying your little ass-whooping up there."  
  
"Uh, right, the firing mechanism should be a small, round button near the- um- bottomlefthandcorner!" he spat out the rest just as he ducked another fireball.  
  
"Gotcha," .19 said and searched the area for a small, round button. There were several to choose from, "Oh great- 3? How's Numbuh 2 doin' back there?"  
  
The Asian girl was using her sleeve to fan 2's face, "Not good," she replied, her face full of concern, "We gotta get him out of here, now!" .19 noticed the sleeve that cradled Numbuh 2's injured head was black with blood.  
  
"Oh," the teenager whispered. She turned back to the controls and, picking the button in the lowest, farthest left corner, started frantically pushing it again and again. Nothing happened. She continued to push it, "Um, Numbuh 1? As you can probably tell, nothing's happening!"  
  
1 swooped low above the tank, peering through the still open hatch door, "No, no!" he cried, "Press down HARD on the button, not a lot of little pushes!" But by that time it was too late. Numbuh 4's, 5's, and his glider had taken heavy hits from the wrecking ball's fire and 3 had just told him over her own microphone that 2 was in bad shape and needed to get back to the treehouse for care. He couldn't keep subjecting his team to this punishment. He balled up his fists and harshly shouted into the microphone, "Kids Next Door, retreat!"  
  
Numbuh 4 and 5 both glanced at each other and their leader before turning their tattered gliders from the wrecking ball, which seemed to have recognized their retreat and had stopped firing. Numbuh 1 felt the heavy weight of failure pool in his head and chest, but he too turned from the battle and bolted.  
  
:::  
  
"That was a humiliation!" the Brit vented as he angrily paced back and forth in the common area.  
  
Numbuh 3 watched his progress with sad eyes as she tended to the prone Numbuh 2 on the couch. .19 sat near the pair, helping Numbuh 3. Numbuh 5 also watched 1 from beneath her scorched red cap as Numbuh 4 aided his own wounds next to her.  
  
"It was like they knew we were coming! How is that possible?" 1 continued to rant, "It's NOT possible. There's no leak in our information system, it comes straight from IHQ! There is no possible way they could have known we were coming, there's just no way!"  
  
Numbuh 5 sat for as long as she could, telling herself to let him rant and rave, it'll do him good to get it all out. But she couldn't let 1 punish himself, which was exactly what would happen if he was allowed to rage much longer. She gingerly raised herself from the couch; her lower leg had been lightly burned by a near miss with a fireball, and cautiously approached the furious boy.  
  
"Calm down, now, boss," she said soothingly, "Les not get all worked up 'bout one loss."  
  
Numbuh 1 stopped pacing, only to fix her with an indignant look.  
  
"Nobody's perfect all da time," she continued, "Ya' can't win 'em all. Dat sound familiar to you?"  
  
The boy nodded reluctantly.  
  
"Numbuh 5 thought so. Don't worry; we'll get 'em next time." She gently wrapped an arm around 1's shoulders and started walking him toward his room.  
  
"This won't look good on the report to IHQ," the exhausted leader said weakly as the pair retreated down the hall.  
  
"Don't you worry a thang 'bout dat, Numbuh 5'll handle it," was the last thing 3 and .19, the only ones monitoring the conversation, heard before their teammates' voices dwindled to silence.  
  
"She sure takes care of him," .19 remarked, looking back down at the unresponsive Numbuh 2.  
  
"Yeah," 3 replied, "She always done that, though. Numbuh 5 takes care of Numbuh 1, that's the way it is here."  
  
"I'm gonna guess they've known each other a long time."  
  
"Oh yeah, even before they knew US they knew each other. They been friends a looong time."  
  
.19 watched the empty space where she'd last seen the pair, "Hunh, interesting," she said quietly.  
  
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A/N: Okay, that's enough for now. I had some other things I wanted to put in this chapter, but I think they'll have to wait 'til next time. So what'd you all think of this chapter? Good action? Like the slight 1/5 I slipped in there? Review please, and keep reading! 


	4. Card Games, Green Vegetables, and Music ...

A/N: I've come to a decision about something. I think this fic will be connected with my other fics. You know, like Kevin Smith movies? All his movies are connected slightly somehow. Basically all that means is that the stuff that happened in "Weapon of Mass Destruction" and "Memories, Good and Bad" happened in this fic, so there may be references. That's all. Hey, did any of my lovely reviewers (thanks for the quick ones, VTbots and Melody Hoshi Sugar) watch "Conspiracy Theory" like I told them to? I certainly hope so. And if not, your loss. Anyway, enjoy chapter 4!  
  
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Despite Numbuh 5's comforting words and although 2's recovery was uncomplicated and quick, Numbuh 1 continued to sulk around the treehouse until late afternoon the next day, when he came across .19 playing some kind of card game on the computer. His curiosity got the better of his bitter mood and he made a small coughing noise to alert the teenager of his presence.  
  
.19 jumped anyway, obviously having been very focused on her game, "Oh! H-hey, Numbuh 1, what's up?" She watched him as he crossed the room towards her.  
  
The boy peered over .19's shoulder at the computerized cards, "What're you playing?" he asked.  
  
"Solitaire," she replied, "Hope you don't mind if I installed it on these computers." She gestured to the array of screens before them, "Didn't think you'd mind."  
  
Numbuh 1 did mind, he wasn't comfortable with the fact that apparently .19 could and would hack into their system just to put up a game, "Ask next time, alright?"  
  
"Yeah," .19 readily complied, "definitely." She was silent a moment, "Hey, wanna learn how to play?" She pulled one of the extra desk chairs to face the screen.  
  
1 eyed the seat for a beat before turning his eyes back on her. I must have SOMETHING better to do with my time than play a silly card game. He searched his mind, but nothing came up. He continued to watch .19 as her face changed from hopeful to persuading.  
  
"C'mon, boss," she said, "You'll like it. I know it looks simple, but it really is a thinking-man's game. You gotta strategize. I know you'll like it."  
  
Numbuh 1 was beginning to tire standing; he hadn't slept much at all for obvious reasons. So he wearily plopped into the offered chair, "Very well, I've got nothing better to do."  
  
.19 smiled happily, "Cool." She turned to the screen and deleted the game she had been playing, "We'll start fresh, so I can show you how it goes." She clicked "Deal" in the game's control bar and immediately the small green screen the game was played on was populated by a stack of virtual cards in the upper left hand corner, a row of four outlined places along the upper edge, and seven increasing stacks of cards in a row along the middle of the screen.  
  
"Okay," .19 began her instructing, "This is what you start with." She immediately started clicking on and moving certain cards. Two aces were double-clicked on and sent to the first two outlined places on the upper edge, a black four was moved onto a red five, and a red jack was moved onto a red queen. This left a blank space at the left end of the seven-strong row, as well as three extra cards to turn over. She did so, revealing a red four, a red eight, and a black seven, which was promptly moved on the red eight. The empty space made by the seven's departure was clicked on to show a red nine.  
  
Out of moves, .19 sat back to explain her actions, "The point in solitaire is to get all the cards into their respective piles, diamond, heart, ace, or spade, in order from ace to king." She pointed at the now two outlined spaces, "The two other aces will go there, when and if they show up. You all the cards set up in order, but so that it's always a black card on a red card or red card on a black card, see?" she gestured to the black four on the red five and the black seven on the red eight, "Now, since I can't do anything else, I go to my extra pile," she moved her mouse to the pile in the corner of the screen and clicked on it. A black nine appeared beside the pile, "See, a black nine doesn't go anywhere," she motioned to the seven row, "So I've gotta click again."  
  
She did so, and came up with nothing useful until up popped a red king. She dragged the card down to the empty space at the left corner of the seven row and also pulled the black queen and red jack to put on top of the king. Clicking on the new card left by the queen and jack, she got a red three, "Nuts, nothing," she grumbled slightly, but stayed calm and continued to play.  
  
She played until suddenly she moved the mouse to control bar and clicked Deal. Numbuh 1 jerked from his stupor of watching her play with a look of indignation, "Hey! What'd you do that for? You just deleted that game!"  
  
.19 looked vaguely confused at her student's passionate protest, "Chill, boss, it was a dead game," she explained calmly, "You can't save a dead game."  
  
1 furrowed his brow, "You could've tried!"  
  
.19 smiled and said like a mother to a petulant child, "There was nothing I could do for that game. There would've been no point in only prolonging the inevitable."  
  
Numbuh 1 sat back in his seat with his arms crossed, "You could've tried..." he said, now only sounding tired and cross.  
  
"Look," .19 said, rubbing a rumbling stomach, "I'm gettin' hungry. I think I'm gonna rustle us all up some dinner. You wanna take over for a bit?" she jerked her head toward the computer, and the fresh deal of solitaire cards.  
  
1 looked up at her, his mood improving slightly at the thought of another delicious .19 meal on the way. Then his hidden eyes moved to the computer and the tempting cards, "Yes, I think I've got the gist of the game, I'll play." Oh, he would play alright, and he wouldn't just dump a game like .19 did.  
  
"Good," the teenager said before pushing herself out of her chair, "Now, don't get hooked on it; this game can get pretty absorbing. Just stay calm and remember: it's just a game."  
  
1 watched his new teammate leave with a raised eyebrow. How could he, of all people, get obsessed with a game? It seemed ridiculous to him, and he chuckled lightly at the thought as he started the new game.  
  
:::  
  
"Sweet!" 1 cried out, "Just what I needed, a red king!" He happily moved an ordered row of cards starting with a black queen onto the king, leaving a fresh card to turn. 1 relished this part of the game, when the new card could be anything. The lost ace of hearts he'd been searching for, or perhaps just a useless six of spades. There was only one way to find out-  
  
"Aw, bloody hell!" the boy swore loudly, "A four of diamonds?! I have no use for THAT!" he groaned in frustration, "NOW what'll I do with that seven of clubs?"  
  
"NUMBUH 1!!!" a very loud and very angry voice made the boy jump out of his seat.  
  
"WHAT??!!" he shouted with equal heat as he clambered back into the wheeled chair.  
  
"DINNER!!!" hollered Numbuh 4 in the doorway, "We been callin' you for fifteen minutes! What the cruddy 'eck ya' doin' in 'ere, discoverin' a cure for cancer?"  
  
"No! I was playing a game."  
  
4 sniffed dubiously, "Must be some game, then." He leaned his small body against the doorframe.  
  
"Um, yes- yes it is," 1 replied, quickly deleting his game and standing up to face Numbuh 4. Something he couldn't identify told him not to share the game with his friend. He didn't know why the feeling had suddenly come over him, but he followed its instructions anyway, "So, dinner's ready, is it?"  
  
"Yeh, come on, .19 will throw a fit if it gets cold while Ah'm pryin' you offa' that machine." He pushed himself off of the door and walked away from his leader, who stood trying to come up with a good retort to 4's burn. He came up with nothing, and so followed the other boy down the stairs toward the kitchen, feeling somehow drained enough to double his persistent lethargy.  
  
Numbuh 4 only turned back to look at his leader again once he'd reached the bottom of the stairs, "Yeesh, Numbuh 1," the Aussie said when he'd gotten a good look at him in the light, "You look awful. Spendin' all that time in fronta' computer screen'll do that to ya'."  
  
"I'm fine, Numbuh 4," 1 said tersely as he too reached the bottom of the stairs and walked passed 4.  
  
"Fine, suit yourself, but don't say Ah didn't warn ya'." Now the small blonde followed 1 into the kitchen where .19 and the rest of the crew was waiting.  
  
"Have fun?" the teenager asked Numbuh 1 as he sat down, rubbing his eyes beneath his glasses. 2, 3, and 5 all eyed their leader with concern but said nothing.  
  
"Yes, thank you," 1 said with faked energy, "What's for dinner?"  
  
"Spaghetti!" cried Numbuh 3 happily.  
  
"Yup," .19 smiled as she set down a large bowl of noodles, sauce, and meatballs, "And broccoli." Another bowl of the green vegetable was placed next to the first, and all five Kids Next Door recoiled in disgust.  
  
"What is DAT stuff doin' here!?" Numbuh 5 was the first to speak; the other children were struck speechless by the revolting dish.  
  
".19," Numbuh 1 said sternly, "I want an explanation, and I mean now."  
  
"What?" .19 asked, "It's just broccoli. Slap a little butter, salt, maybe some pepper and you've got a fine compliment to the spaghetti." She sounded hurt by the rest of the team's utter rejection of her food.  
  
"I'm sorry, Numbuh .19," 1 told her, "but we DON'T eat broccoli here."  
  
"Well why the heck not? Geez, you all act like it's radioactive or something! Look, if you'd just try it, you'd see it's not that bad." As if to prove her hypothesis, she picked up a fork and stabbed a piece. She chewed and swallowed the hated vegetable without so much as a grimace. In fact, she actually SMILED after consumption, "Mmm, perfect amount of butter." She glanced around the table, "Now, who's gonna stop being a baby and eat some?"  
  
The team looked from comrade to comrade, all quite fine with being babies as long as they didn't have to be the first to eat the broccoli. .19 sighed, "Fine. You know, when your parents try to make you eat broccoli and stuff like that, they only do it cuz they love you and they want the best for you. Do you know how good broccoli is for you? But hey, if you wanna go blind when you hit 60, that's your business." She loaded up her plate with some spaghetti and broccoli, and then made for the exit, stopping at the door only to say, "Someday you'll all understand," before leaving.  
  
The children sat in silence for a moment, pondering .19's departing words, "Well, what'd she mean by THAT?" Numbuh 2 eventually wondered aloud.  
  
"Ah dunno," 4 replied, in a bit of a daze. Had they just gotten a "talking to"? By one of their own teammates? The idea seemed impossible.  
  
"Well," Numbuh 1 said slowly, "We must remember that she IS nearly an adult. I suppose that makes her impervious to broccoli."  
  
"Wow," 3 murmured, "You mean that stuff actually DID taste good to her?"  
  
"I guess so, Numbuh 3. But that doesn't make it anymore appealing to me," 1 answered, and five sets of eyes wandered over to the food in question and stayed there for a while.  
  
"Ah still ain't eatin' it," 4 obstinately declared, "Ah dun care if 's good to a teenagah' or not."  
  
"Me neithuh'," 5 agreed and sat back as far as she could from the bowl to emphasis her point, "Not in a million years."  
  
"Unh-unh, not me," 3 declined right after with a wrinkled nose.  
  
"I'll try it," 2 bravely volunteered. He grabbed his fork and quickly popped a bit into his mouth. He chewed slowly and thoroughly.  
  
"Report, Numbuh 2," 1 requested.  
  
"Not too bad," 2 said. The circle of children gasped, "She was right, good butter." But as he continued to chew his speculative expression changed. The corners of his mouth turned down and his eyes narrowed behind his pilot's goggles. In a matter of seconds what was left of the broccoli was in 2's napkin and the plump boy was guzzling his soda to rid himself of the taste. When he finished he slammed the empty cup onto the table and declared, "Yuck! There's NO hope for that vegetable, none at ALL! Doesn't matter HOW much butter you put on it, it's still nasty!"  
  
The rest of the team relaxed, "Well, that settles that," 1 concluded. A feeling of relief crept into each child. They had all been slightly worried for a moment. Maybe .19 was right, and they were just so used to the fact that broccoli = bad that they'd never gave it a chance. But Numbuh 2 had valiantly sacrificed his appetite to prove .19 wrong, and they were all comforted. They ate their meal, sans green vegetables, with hardly a thought to the slighted teenager stewing behind her T marked door.  
  
:::  
  
The following morning Numbuh 4 was heading toward the kitchen for breakfast. He was in a cheerful mood for a reason he couldn't quite identify, and started unconsciously humming one of Numbuh 5's poppy r & b tunes. He stopped walking when he realized what he was doing and made a disgusted face. Numbuh 4 got very irritated sometimes at 5 for her all- nighter music fests she occasionally threw. They got her music stuck in his head for the next week, something he didn't enjoy in the slightest since overall he found the style unappealing. He didn't know what kind of music he WOULD find appealing- at least, not until he passed by .19's door.  
  
He again halted his journey as the strains of a wailing electric guitar and a crashing set of drums tugged at his ears. Suddenly curious, he faced .19's door and stood listening intently. Two quiet voices, one male one female, joined the instruments, and 4 could easily detect a passion that was just barely in check in the words. The song was full of anger and pain, railing against a callous lover for their wrongs, and its furious strength captivated Numbuh 4. The small boy pushed open the door and silently entered the room.  
  
He saw .19 sitting at her desk, bent over a small radio on its surface, singing with the same quiet but passionate voice he'd heard just outside. Eventually the song ended, and the teenager sat back from the desk with a sigh then a cry as she caught sight of Numbuh 4 sitting in a chair listening.  
  
"4, you scared the livin' crap outta me! Don't do that again!" she put a hand to her chest and took a few breaths as the boy sat silently, "So? What the heck is it, Numbuh 4?"  
  
"What song was that?"  
  
She glanced back at her radio and then at him, "Oh, that?" 4 nodded, "Hoobastank, you wouldn't know them."  
  
Numbuh 4 smiled slightly at the silly name, "Hoobastank? Ah think Ah 'ad an aunt that lived on a street with that name, back 'ome." They both laughed slightly, but 4 quieted down as he remembered the music. The strength and intensity of it had enthralled him, and he wanted to know more about it, "But really, what was that song?"  
  
"It's called 'Running Away'," .19 said, then smiled crookedly, "You liked it?"  
  
Numbuh 4 nodded eagerly, which made .19 smile all the more.  
  
"Really..." she thought a moment and her eyes light up as she looked at him, "Well then, in that case, do I have some bands for you!"  
  
"Huh?" 4 questioned as he watched .19 practically leap from her seat and start rifling through her suitcase. Eventually the teenager pulled out a circular, red case with two snaps on each end and the word discgear on one side, "What's that?"  
  
"My CDs," .19 said proudly, and crouched next to Numbuh 4 before clicking open the case. It opened something like a filing cabinet, with slots for the thin CDs. 4 realized that she could open the other side of it to reveal a whole extra row of slots, making the case like an accordion for CDs. She started flicking through the ones on the first side. 4 watched the colorful discs flip as she ran her finger across them, titles flashing through his vision. Suddenly she stopped and pulled out one of them. It was a black CD with some symbol on the front, "This is Hoobastank's CD," she explained before handing it to him, "It's got 'Running Away' on it. Give it a listen, and then tell me about it cuz I haven't quite gotten around to it yet."  
  
"But Ah don't have a CD player." 4 reluctantly started to hand the disc back to .19, but she stopped him.  
  
"Oh, well, don't worry 'bout that." She went back to her suitcase and in seconds was holding out a slightly scuffed, silver CD player and earphones, "Here you go. The bass button doesn't work and neither does the volume, but it'll get the job done."  
  
Not being a very gracious sort, Numbuh 4 eagerly grabbed the player and dashed back to his room with only hasty thanks. .19 smiled despite 4's lack of manners and went back to her radio to sing away the rest of the morning.  
  
An hour later, Numbuh 4 had found his appealing music genre, and that was hard, fast, ear-splittingly loud rock. He didn't realize it, but the boy himself was more or less that particular music personified. Intense, loud, and deeply passionate. He was intoxicated, in love with his new discovery. Only stopping to thank .19 again and urge her to make time for the CD, he scoured his room for loose money and sprinted for the electronics store, to buy the cheapest CD player he could find, and then the music store, to buy as many CDs as possible with what was left over. The rest of the day was spent in his room, falling deeper and deeper in love with all the tones and colors of hard rock.  
  
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A/N: Alright, folks, maybe this chapter needs a little explaining- Or maybe it doesn't. Yeah, this is my fic, and if you disagree with anything I put in here, well, that's your own damn business and you can keep your comments to yourself. **cough** Still review anyway though, please? Hey, you know what? I totally didn't plan that whole broccoli thing, it just kinda popped up. Seriously, these chapters were really only going to be Numbuh 1 and solitaire and 4 and music- that was it. Go figure. Anyway, review please and keep reading, it'll get real good soon, I swear! 


	5. Moonlit Valley

A/N: Hello again, time for chapter 5! Got a bit of a review drought as of the last chapter, thanks only goes out to VTbots (review when you can, I don't mind). That kinda sucks, since I really wanted feedback for that chapter... Well, there's always the next one- um, until the last one, that is. I certainly hope I get some more reviews before THEN! But anyways, here's chapter 5! Oh yeah, and to anyone who's interested, I finally uploaded this "John Doe" fanfic I wrote a while ago. Check it out if you're a fan, it's pretty good.  
  
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"Numbuh 1?" the Quiet One called along the corridors of their HQ, "Nigel?" she was beginning to get frustrated, "Where you at, boss?!" It was early afternoon, and the girl hadn't seen her friend since breakfast. She had been walking back to her room after eating lunch when, upon passing the computer room, she'd spotted their new orders from IHQ. It was some mission involving a day care school, 5 couldn't quite recall the details in her concern over Numbuh 1's whereabouts.  
  
Eventually she had scoured the whole inside of the treehouse, something she would have been proud of is she hadn't been so worried, without seeing a trace of the boy. Furrowing her brow, she finally decided the only other place he could be if he was in the vicinity at all was on one of the wings' roofs.  
  
"Nigel Uno!" she called once she'd clambered into the sunshine on the roof. It was a nice place to sit, what with the sun and the warm roof tiles and the birds. 5 made a mental note to bring her magazines and music up some time and chill with Numbuh 3. But first she knew she had to find Numbuh 1, and with fresh resolve started scanning the area for her friend.  
  
She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally spotted him, sitting on one of the roofs bent over something in his lap. She jogged over and peered curiously over his shoulder, "Wassat, boss?"  
  
1 grunted in response, but didn't turn from the small laptop on which he was playing five games of solitaire at once, trying to beat his best score of 725 and time of 39 seconds in one go. He was beginning to think both records were flukes, but he couldn't stop playing, not when he was so close... Suddenly the screen went blank, "GAH!" he cried, "What happened to my games?!"  
  
"Yo' battery ran out, boss," Numbuh 5 responded. She had taken a seat next to 1 to watch the tournament, but had really been watching him the whole time, and she didn't like what she saw. From that angle she could see beneath his sunglasses to reveal dark rings under bloodshot eyes sunken into a pale face. Had he been playing that stupid card game for the last three days?!  
  
"I can see that," Numbuh 1 grumbled, whipping off his glasses to rub his tired eyes.  
  
Numbuh 5 handed him the paper containing the new mission, "Jis' came from IHQ."  
  
He snatched the paper from her and squinted at it for a second before tossing it weakly into the air, "More orders from IHQ," he murmured bitterly to himself as the thin sheet settled between the pair, "What's the matter THIS time? They want us to get Polly out of the well, or something?"  
  
Numbuh 5 was taken aback at his sudden apathy, "What's da matter wid you lately?" she said none too politely, "You been actin' like you don' care 'bout nuthin', and, frankly, 's gettin' old. You used ta' be da most motivated outta all of us! Now all you do's play dat dumb game." She looked at him solemnly, "What's da matter, Nigel? You can talk ta' Numbuh 5, jis like Numbuh 5 can talk ta' you-"  
  
"Well sometimes one doesn't FEEL like talking!" Numbuh 1 loudly interrupted. He was so tired, all he wanted to do was sleep, but 5 just kept talking and talking...  
  
The dark girl's eyes narrowed and her whole body stiffened, "Hey, you don't talk ta' me like dat!" she shouted sharply, "So you don wanna talk, fine, you can take care uh yo' problems ALONE!" She stood up and quickly turned so Numbuh 1 wouldn't see the cavernous gash his words had carved in her heart, before striding away from him and back into the treehouse, the new mission flapping in the breeze from her clenched hand.  
  
Numbuh 1 sat in dull shock on the roof, feeling much more alone than he'd intended to by coming up in the first place. The small laptop clattered to the warm rooftop without notice.  
  
:::  
  
Numbuh 5 quickly disposed of her hurt in favor of obstinate anger at Numbuh 1. How dare he? she thought, even her head sounded bitter, He's abandonin' da whole team! Does he even KNOW dat? Well, dis mission ain't gonna complete itself. She made for Numbuh 4's room with a heavy heart.  
  
Knocking on the 4 marked door, she yelled, "Numbuh 4! Get yo' behind out here, we got orders waitin'." She waited for an answer, and upon getting none roughly threw open the door before she could tell herself to calm down.  
  
.19 and Numbuh 4 sat on the wrestling ring that dominated the room, the teenager cradling an acoustic guitar while strumming a few chords as the small boy watched attentively. They didn't even glance up as Numbuh 5 stormed into the room.  
  
"That's pretty much all I know," .19 was saying, "I'm sure you could figure the rest out-"  
  
"Hey!" yelled Numbuh 5. .19 scrambled to keep the guitar, which she'd been holding out to Numbuh 4, from falling onto the hard mat.  
  
"Yeh, Numbuh 5?" 4 said once he'd blinked some adrenaline from his brain, "What's the problem?"  
  
So many answers to a simple question... Numbuh 5 groaned inwardly. She went for the one that would make sense to him, "New mission," she said and held up the paper, which was slightly crinkled from 5's incensed scrunching.  
  
"Ah, man!" whined Numbuh 4, "Can't somebody else 'andle it? Ah'm busy 'ere!"  
  
"Dis a MISSION, Numbuh 4! Ya' can't jis blow it off!" Numbuh 5 was getting madder by the second at her teammates' behavior, "Kids are in trouble, 'n you 'n Numbuh 1 don' seem ta' CARE! 'What's da problem' you ask? Numbuh 5 thinks YOU da problem!" With that she stalked from the room and promptly slammed the door of hers without another word.  
  
She slumped against the door, suddenly very tired. She hated it when she had to yell, particularly at her own teammates. She was the Quiet One, for goodness sake! She wasn't good at yelling, it wasn't her job! She heaved a great swallow of pity for the kids they were supposed to save, since that probably wouldn't happen. Those poor kids, they were counting on the Kids Next Door to help them, save them from whatever torture they were enduring. They didn't have a prayer without the Kids Next Door, and that made Numbuh 5 hurt all the more.  
  
"What's goin' ON here?!" she whispered with a shaky voice, "Seems like everythang's fallin' apart! What's changed?" She racked her brain for the culprit, and the answer sent ice water through her veins, "Numbuh .19..."  
  
:::  
  
Night fell with its purple-black blanket of dark and stars and 5 smiled as she watched the last of the sunset disappear. Now 's Numbuh 5's turn, she thought as she crept silent as a cat along the outside balconies of the treehouse. Long ago she'd memorized each and every way in and out of the headquarters, just in case, and her preparedness was coming in handy now. Within three minutes of her exit via window of her room she balanced on a branch just outside .19's simple quarters. Everything about her was silent and invisible, from her watchful eyes to her slow, even breathing. She was a professional, and she loved her job.  
  
She didn't have to wait long. Around 11:30, the girl watched .19 crawl fully-clothed out of bed and begin rummaging through her room. Amateur, Numbuh 5 almost chuckled before sinking into the shadows as .19 climbed out of her window. With barely a glance to see if she was being followed, the teenager climbed down the tree and started walking down the sidewalk, Numbuh 5 not ten steps behind the entire time. 5 shadowed .19 along the sidewalk, then through some dark trees, into town, then out of town. The girl hoped she'd remember the way back after the trip was over.  
  
The teenager finally stopped in a valley between two particularly highway-riddled mountains. The moon was at high noon now, and it lit the rocky area like a delicate, silver spotlight. 5 was hard-pressed to find a deep enough shadow, but eventually crouched underneath a rock over-hanging and watched .19 with keen eyes.  
  
.19 merely stood in the valley, still and silent. Numbuh 5 quickly decided the teenager was waiting for something, or someone, but unlike back at the treehouse, this time she DID have to wait. 5, half-asleep, jerked up and hit the low rock ceiling at .19's contact's arrival.  
  
"You always gotta make an entrance, don't you?" .19 grumbled as the gleaming hovercraft folded into itself again and again, until it was nothing but a metal cube in one of its former occupants' hands.  
  
"Yes," came the various tones of a single reply, "Why did you call me, Danica?"  
  
.19 couldn't help but shiver at the sound of the five different voices blending into one, not to mention the use of the singular case and her name, but this was no time to get squeamish, "I thought you deserved an explanation."  
  
"Yes, I had a very delicate trap laid for today, why did you fail?"  
  
.19 flinched under the five identical, accusing glares, "The plan's working too well! They're practically at each other's throats, but it's so bad they didn't even bother going on the mission!"  
  
Numbuh 5 let her head sink onto her folded arms. Of course, .19 had been behind everything the entire time. She let her mind run over the course of events since .19's arrival. The botched mission, Numbuh 1's distraction, Numbuh 4's new obsession, all of it was .19's doing, under the direction of the Delightful Children From Down the Lane.  
  
"You've followed my orders, Danica?" The Children didn't bother to disguise the threat behind their conjoined voices.  
  
"Yes, yes, to the letter, I swear," .19 quickly assured them. Numbuh 5 cringed at her pathetic fear, "I think, maybe, we should-"  
  
"I'll give the orders around here!" the Delightful Children cut her off viciously, "And I think the time for well-laid orders is over." The tallest boy suddenly whipped out a weapon of some sort and .19 ducked in horror. The boy aimed and fired, but instead of ending .19's pitiful life, it released a silver cable with a claw at the end that shot underneath the rock over-hanging and clamped around Numbuh 5's waist. With a cry the dark girl was dragged out of her hiding place as the boy pressed a button on the weapon that retracted the cable.  
  
"Numbuh 5?" .19 said incredulously, then glanced back at the Children with mortal fear in her eyes, "I didn't know she followed me! Please believe me!"  
  
"I believe you, Danica," the Children answered in their mingling, sticky sweet tones, "But, as I said, the time for well-laid plans is over. Drastic measures must be taken to secure our victory and destroy the Kids Next Door. You still have a part to play, however, and as such I will not destroy you."  
  
"You a sick girl, .19!" 5 growled as she tried to pry off the metal claw, "Sellin' out ta DAT scum!"  
  
.19 lowered her head as if she was made extremely weary by Numbuh 5's biting words, "You'll understand someday..." she whispered.  
  
"Enough talk!" declared the Children, "The new plan goes as thus: Abigail is now bait. You, Danica, shall go to back to the Kids Next Door headquarters and tell them their teammate has been kidnapped. They will come for her, and that is when I will spring the trap and relieve myself of their insufferable meddling once and for all."  
  
"You can't do dat!" 5 passionately protested, then changed tact, "You think da Kids Next Door'll fall for dat lame-ass plan?" she scoffed, "Please."  
  
"Oh, they will come for you, Abigail," the Children replied as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, "And their capture will be simple, due to Danica's efforts to weaken the team. Be assured, the Kids Next Door's days are numbered." Their laughter echoed in Numbuh 5's head as a syringe was plunged into her arm and she lost consciousness. The last thing she saw was .19's face in the moonlight, a single tear blazing a trail down one cheek.  
  
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A/N: Shock, it's another Delightful Children screwing with the KND fic. Dun, dun, duuuun **dramatic reverb**... Welcome to cliffhanger city, my dear readers! Looks like this fic will be done earlier than I thought. Hope I see a few more reviews before it's over! 


	6. Like It Never Happened

A/N: I think I may actually finish in this chapter, that is if I decide not to do an epilogue. This will more than likely be my absolute LAST Kids Next Door fanfic for quite some time, so thanks to all future reviewers for any of my three KND fanfics. Also, I hope some of you will check out my next story, or maybe some of my finished ones. I know I'm interested in any more reviews I can milk outta this crowd. A bunch of thanks to VTbots and TJ Rose for their reviews for chapter 5, hope you enjoy this one. Review again and let me know if there should be an epilogue. That goes for all you quiet types too. Anyway, it's been real interesting writing this fic, I hope you've all enjoyed yourselves. My next fic will be in fictionpress.net and it'll be fantastic I'm pretty sure, so check it out.  
  
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.19 swiftly woke each Kid Next Door with the same manufactured message, "The Delightful Freaks got Numbuh 5!"  
  
"What?!" cried Numbuh 1, the last to be woken with the news. He promptly leapt out of bed and joined the rest of the shocked team in the common area.  
  
"How could this happen?" Numbuh 3 murmured in sadness into the fur of a large teddy bear.  
  
"Yeh," 4 agreed as he unconsciously patted the morose 3's arm, "Credited 5 wid more brains than that."  
  
"What're we gonna do, chief?" Numbuh 2 said, turning to their leader.  
  
"First," 1 started. He was so tired from playing solitaire four days straight, he could barely hold together a coherent thought, "We have to understand how it happened. You were there, .19, report."  
  
"5 and me just stepped out for a magazine run," her voice was riddled with concern, just like she'd practiced, "We were on our way back when they just popped up and grabbed her with this claw gun thing."  
  
"'Just popped up'?" Numbuh 4 said incredulously, "Na' that hardly sounds like the Delightful Tossers."  
  
But his protest went widely unnoticed as .19 continued her heart- wrenching story, "I tried to hold her, I had her hand... but, but-" her voice faltered as a tear or two slid down her face. She lowered her head, "But I just couldn't hold on." Covering her face with her hands, she quietly wept into her palms. The four Kids Next Door said nothing as .19's bawling echoed through the common area.  
  
:::  
  
Numbuh 5 had a pounding headache which she tried to assuage by rubbing her forehead with shaky hands, and her stomach felt like it was one of Numbuh 3's origami mishaps. If she hadn't been ten, she'd have sworn she had a hangover. But as the memory of the past few hours returned, she probably would have preferred the hangover.  
  
"Good morning, Abigail," the Delightful Children said in their insufferably polite way from beyond the cage's bars, "Ready for round- what is it? Five? Six?" They giggled lightly and one of them again pressed a button that controlled Numbuh 5's cage.  
  
The Quiet One watched with growing anxiety as the burst of blue electricity scampered down the wire connected to the cage. She tried to curl up into a ball before it arrived, but it was too late. She didn't make a sound as the electricity invaded her body with a cold fire, only prayed she wouldn't lose consciousness again. She didn't like the idea of not being awake around the Delightful Children. Kind of like that saying, "The monster you know is better than the monster you don't know."  
  
"I'm rather disappointed in you, Abigail," the Children pouted, "Such an uncommunicative plaything will never do. But, don't worry, I'll have four more soon enough. And after that, no more bothersome Kids Next Door at all." They giggled again and shut off the electricity, leaving Numbuh 5 to stave off the darkness alone.  
  
:::  
  
After .19 had pulled herself together, she mentioned she might have heard the Delightful Children talking about where they were taking Numbuh 5, "I think I heard something about a dungeon in their headquarters," she said and blew her nose once more into Numbuh 2's hanky before handing it back to the heavyset boy, "Here, thanks."  
  
2 took a look at the soaked handkerchief, "You keep it."  
  
.19 gingerly folded her new hanky into her lap, "Can you get in their mansion?" she asked Numbuh 1, who stood at his podium, but was staring out the window into the dawning day.  
  
The Brit snapped out of his guilt-ridden thoughts of his final words to Numbuh 5, "Um, yes, we can, but it's no cake walk. And their dungeon," he shuddered, "I don't think I even want to go down there."  
  
"But we have to!" Numbuh 3 insisted, "Numbuh 5's down there..." she trailed off and again buried her face in the teddy bear's soft fur.  
  
"So what's the plan, boss?" Numbuh 2 asked.  
  
1 was silent a moment, running through all their previous missions that had brought them inside the Delightful Children's mansion, "Hm, well, what would Numbuh 5 do?" he asked himself more than the team. She always came up with the best plans, he thought Even better than my own, usually.  
  
"Go for stealth," Numbuh 4 answered.  
  
"Correct, Numbuh 4. We'll go in Numbuh 5-style and rescue her before the Delightful Creeps know what happened." He smiled then, not a big one, but a strong one, and the other three felt a bubble of hope rise inside each of them as he spoke the magic words, "Kids Next Door, move out!"  
  
:::  
  
"Rainbow Monkey Princess and Point-Teen in position," Numbuh 3 whispered when she and .19 had lighted on the roof of the Delightful mansion.  
  
"200 Mega Horsepower check," 2 said from inside the tunneling transport that would be their escape car. He glanced back at the medical supplies they'd brought along with a nervous swallow, "Bring 'er back safe, okay fellas?"  
  
"10 4, Mega Horsepower, Big Enchilada and Hoobastank out," Numbuh 1 switched off his microphone and turned to Numbuh 4 with a raised eyebrow, "Hoobastank? What the heck is that supposed to mean, Numbuh 4?"  
  
The Aussie glanced at his leader before returning to his binoculars, "Ya' wouldn't get it even if Ah told ya'," he said in a wistful tone, which served only to bring 1's eyebrow even closer to his nonexistent hairline.  
  
The pair sat in a makeshift foxhole in the mansion's expansive, yet still creepy topiary garden that would be there shelter until Numbuh 3 and .19 gave the okay to move in.  
  
The Asian girl was working on that as they spoke. Doing what she did best, 3 began to skip along every inch of the roof, tripping every defense sensor they had. Red lights and sirens began to flash and wail wherever she had stepped. Spotlights burst from various corners of the roof and followed Numbuh 3's every move.  
  
"Sounds good up there, Princess," 4 said as he watched with his binoculars from the foxhole.  
  
"La, la-la-la- huh?" 3 replied, then smiled and skipped all the faster once she'd figured out whom was talking, "Yup, too bad .19's not here."  
  
"Come back, Princess," 1 said, pressing his earpiece in deeper as if he'd misheard, "What was that last part?"  
  
"Can't find .19," 3 repeated as she nimbly dodged light fire from the guns attached to the spotlights, "Just disappeared as soon as we landed. Silly, she missing all the fun!"  
  
".19's missing," Numbuh 1 muttered. Numbuh 4 watched his leader with a similarly furrowed brow, "Strange."  
  
"Yeh," 4 said, "Ah bet-"  
  
"Okay, ready to go!" 3 reported merrily before jumping into the air and flying off in Numbuh 2's new wings, "Hey, Numbuh 2?"  
  
"That's 200 Mega Horsepower here, remember?" the boy chided half- heartedly.  
  
"Oops, well anyways, these wings work great!" 3 turned a quick, unseen somersault in the air with the agile new gear.  
  
"Yeh, Numbuh 2," 4 added, "Nice work on these."  
  
2 blushed from inside the mole-like sub, "Aw, thanks, guys-"  
  
"Yes, very good work," 1 said hastily, "Now can we get back to the mission at hand: rescuing Numbuh 5?" He was all in favor for giving credit where credit was due, but they had bigger fish to fry. (A/N: Hey look, two sayings in one sentence! ^^ I'm awesome...)  
  
"Oh, right, boss," 4 agreed quickly.  
  
"Uh huh, we focus now," 3's repentant voice crackled over the microphone.  
  
"Good," 1 said without waiting for 2's apology, "You said it was clear, right, 3?"  
  
"Yeah, go ahead."  
  
"Alright then, Kids Next Door, let's rescue our teammate." Pulling camouflage cloaks over themselves, Numbuh 1 and 4 sprinted from the foxhole and made for the mansion. The cloaks made the pair little more than two small, moving lumps along the impeccable lawn as they reached their destination along one of the mansion's walls. After a moment they were joined by Numbuh 3 when she landed silently next to them and retracted the wings with a smile at Numbuh 4 and 1. 4 was the only one to notice though, since 1 was crouched at the wall, gingerly feeling along its brick for their entrance.  
  
"Ah ha," he said once he'd found the edge of the loose brick, "Just a moment and we'll be inside the dungeon." He pulled the brick out of the wall and let it fall to the ground. It was the first in a pile of six or so other bricks, the hole they left being just big enough to accommodate three ten year olds. Without hesitation, 1 slid into the hole. Numbuh 4 and 3 glanced at each other with unsure eyes, but then both remembered their reason for taking this insane risk, and followed their leader.  
  
"The bees are in the 'ive, 'Orsepower," Numbuh 4 whispered as all three broke out their flashlights.  
  
The area in which they had landed looked like your basic cellar with unfinished walls, a cold, blue-gray cement floor, and a door in the far corner. In fact, the only thing odd about it was that it was far too small to be the basement of such a gigantic mansion. The three kids crept up to the door, and, after 1 had listened for any movement on the other side, entered the dungeon.  
  
:::  
  
An infrared camera captured the trio's every move, sending the picture to a monitor just above 5's cage's controls. The Children all smiled the same excited smile as they watched their prey, "Here already? My, my, my, such friends you have, Abigail. Such silly, doomed friends."  
  
A nervous looking guard entered the room, "Uh, your orders, um, sir...s?"  
  
"Send a team to collect the fat one," the Children replied slowly, as if talking to a baby, "I can deal with the others myself."  
  
"Yes, sir...s," he replied, still uncertain, and quickly exited the room.  
  
Numbuh 5 watched him go silently. She wanted to cry, or scream, but she could barely move and it was all she could do to keep conscious. The last bits of remaining energy were put to that goal and none other, except breathing. Feeling even those final reserves begin to ebb, she closed her eyes, seeing no point in watching her friends' demise.  
  
"Aw, poor Abigail," the Children crooned venomously, "Can't stand to see your little friends go? Don't worry, you won't be far behind." They sounded like they wanted to say more, but had already dissolved into giggles.  
  
"I'm here," a voice said from the door.  
  
"Ah, Danica, how good of you to come." The Children left 5 to her misery and approached the teenager.  
  
.19 unceremoniously dropped the delicate wings to the ground, "Whatever, let's just do this quick, okay? She's creepin' me out worse than you guys like that." She jerked her head in 5's direction, where the dark girl lay flat and still as a dead animal in the cage.  
  
"Have patience, Danica," the Children replied, "The end will come soon enough." They turned and watched the screen as it flickered from camera to camera along the dungeon's halls, showing them the image of the trio coming closer and closer to their doom.  
  
:::  
  
"We are NOT lost!" Numbuh 1 crossly declared as he led the others down another cold hall.  
  
"We ain't?" 4 said dubiously, "Cuz all that aimless wanderin' we was just doin' sure SEEMED like bein' lost. Maybe it was just me."  
  
"Nope, it wasn't just you," 3 concurred, "We definitely lost."  
  
Numbuh 1 quit trying to refute the fact, since it was 100% true. He had no idea where they were, he just hoped it led to Numbuh 5. Nothing really mattered to him beyond getting to 5, not the plan, not his other teammates, nothing. It was bad enough he and she'd parted on such bad terms, but then she had to go and get kidnapped?! 1 couldn't believe his luck sometimes. And over a game to top it off! The boy hadn't stopped berating himself over what a complete imbecile he'd been, getting so wrapped up in a bloody game. What kind of leader was he?! But he didn't care about that now, since all his thoughts consisted of was getting to Numbuh 5, by any means necessary.  
  
"'Ey, what was that?" Numbuh 4 stopped walking and tilted his head to listen, 3 did the same.  
  
"What was what?" 1 asked.  
  
"Sounded like a laugh, kinda," 3 answered vaguely, "But weird. Not normal laugh."  
  
"Yeh, like... a MEAN laugh, or somethin'." Numbuh 4 swiveled his flashlight around the dark hallway, but saw nothing in either direction.  
  
Then Numbuh 1 heard it too. 3 and 4 were right, it wasn't a normal laugh, and it had a cruel edge to it, making it sharp and hurtful. 1 instantly knew where that laugh had originated from, "The Delightful Children From Down the Lane, I presume," he said to open air.  
  
"Why yes, Nigel. You are quite the clever one." Their serrated voices boomed over a hidden PA system, making them sound like some kind of twisted god.  
  
"Where's Numbuh 5?! Let 'er speak!" demanded 4.  
  
"Oh, Wallace, I'm afraid Abigail can't come to the phone right now, she's... well, let's just say indisposed, shall we?"  
  
"What you done to Numbuh 5?!" 3 cried out, her voice jagged and piercing.  
  
"That's for me to know, and you to find out, little Kuki," responded the voices, followed by their malicious laughter that made all three cringe and cover their ears against the onslaught, "Good bye, Kids Next Door," was the last thing they said.  
  
"'Good bye'? Just what does THAT mean?" 4 said angrily.  
  
"It means good bye, Numbuh 4," 3 replied softly. 4 turned to tell her he knew that, and was shocked to see her looking far down the hall with terror-filled eyes. He looked in that direction and couldn't help a shout of alarm as he saw the wall at the end of the hall rushing at them at an incredible speed.  
  
"N-n-numbuh 1?" he said with a quaking voice, but got no response. The other boy was facing the opposite direction in equal panic as he watched the other wall also coming at them, "Numbuh 1, what do we do?!"  
  
At the sound of his teammate's plea 1 snapped out of his daze. He looked along the quickly-diminishing walls to find a single door on one side, "There!" he shouted and they all ran to their only hope. Numbuh 1 tried to turn the knob, but it was locked. He pulled on it with all his might, but the door remained obstinately shut. Another glance at their approaching doom sapped any strength he had and he fell away from the door.  
  
"Lemme at it," 4 growled with determination. Backing up a few paces, the boy let out a loud shout and launched himself into the air. He landed a resounding kick on the center of the door and it snapped clear off its hinges, falling into the room beyond. 1 and 3 dashed into the room while 4 continued to stand in the hall, boasting over his victory, "Ha! Didn't stand a chance! That was for Numbuh 5. Should uh let me do it in the first place, Numbuh 1-"  
  
"C'mon, silly!" 3 yelled at the proud boy and yanked him into the room just before the walls crashed together with a tremendous SLAM! All three kids stood amazed they were still alive.  
  
"Kids Next Door, you just don't know when to quit," came five spiteful voices in unison from the far side of the room.  
  
"Oh this just figures!" 4 cried in frustration, "The ONE room we find ta 'scape those cruddy walls, 'n YOU'RE in it!"  
  
"They planned it that way, Numbuh 4," 1 said solemnly.  
  
"What? But 'ow-"  
  
"I can answer that," another voice said, an older, female voice. .19 stepped out from behind the Children, who stood smiling smugly.  
  
"Traitor!" Numbuh 4 shouted, "Ah 'ate traitors! No betta' than adults, givin' up what you believe in, that's weakness right there! 'N sellin' out ta' the adults? Well, that jis makes you even worse than them!"  
  
.19 flinched at Numbuh 4's scathing tirade, "You don't understand, Numbuh 4..."  
  
"That's Wallaby Beatles ta' you, traitor!"  
  
"Make us understand, .19," Numbuh 1 said calmly, though his eyes were full of sadness behind his sunglasses.  
  
"You don't know what I've SEEN!" .19 yelled, close to real tears this time, "Remember what I told you, Numbuh 1? You can't save a dead game. Do you remember? Well, the Kids Next Door is a dead game. You fight against adults usually when all they want is the best for you, to keep you safe. I've seen what happens when kids aren't kept safe, and, please believe me, you DON'T want that!" her voice had turned pleading, and the tears were falling. Her voice was just above a whisper in her next words, "And even if it means a few losses," she walked to a shadowed corner of the room, where Numbuh 5 lay motionless on the floor of the cage, "so be it, if I can keep kids safe." She gently stroked 5's arm, to which the girl didn't respond.  
  
"You're mad!" 4 cried in astonishment.  
  
"Numbuh 5!" 3 shrieked in alarm.  
  
"What the bloody hell have you done to her?!" 1 hollered over 4 and 3, and began to run to Numbuh 5. He was stopped when he ran straight into a force field that surrounded the entire corner of the room and enclosed the cage, "No!" the boy slammed and kicked at the field for all he was worth. Nothing did any good, "But, how did you-?" he looked to .19.  
  
The teenager lifted a hand to reveal a band on her wrist, "Lets me through." 1 slumped against the field, ignoring the slight burn it sent through his skin.  
  
"If you're all quite finished," the Children said, sounding exceedingly bored, "I believe we have business to attend to." They pressed a button on the cage consol, and three other identical cages fell from the ceiling, instantly trapping the remaining Kids Next Door.  
  
4 immediately went to throw the cage off, but the moment he touched the bars he jerked back, "This metal's electrified."  
  
"A very astute observation, Wallace," the Children said their voices thick with sarcasm, "You should be proud, these were made to house Holocaust prisoners of war, but were decided to inhumane and disposed of. It is a very good thing Father is so resourceful."  
  
"Oh yes," 4 scoffed, "fantastic." 3 sniffled in her cage and 1 continued to watch 5.  
  
I'm sorry, Abby, he told her in his mind, I failed you. He hung his head in shame, unable to look at Numbuh 5's statuesque face a second longer.  
  
:::  
  
"Guys?" Numbuh 2 said into his microphone, he received nothing but static, "Guys?! Hellooo!" he tapped his earpiece, "Where are they?"  
  
Just then the hatch of the sub blew open, and three uniformed men jumped inside.  
  
"What the-?" 2 cried, and ducked the men as they grabbed for him.  
  
"Come with us, son," one of them said sternly, "And you won't get hurt."  
  
"Yeah, right," 2 responded from behind a stretcher that was part of the medical supplies, "You know the first rule of the Kids Next Door? Never trust adults." He pushed the stretcher sideways towards the men, catching them off-guard and knocking them over. 2 immediately climbed out of through the hatch, only to be confronted by the business ends of four or five guns.  
  
"Aw man," he grumbled as he was hauled the rest of the way out of the sub and marched into the mansion. They walked down into the dungeon, and soon joined the Delightful Children, .19, and the rest of the Kids Next Door.  
  
"Hello, Hoagie Junior," the Children cordially greeted him.  
  
"Sup, super freaks?" he answered and struggled a little more against his assailants, "You okay guys? I couldn't hear you on the com link."  
  
"Seen betta' days, Numbuh 2," 4 answered grimly. He nodded to their respective confinements.  
  
2 glanced around at the cages, and his eyes suddenly sparked with interest, "Hey, are those-?"  
  
"Leave," the Children instructed the guards, and 2's question was halted as the men roughly released him. But he continued to eye the cages with a exploratory look, "There will be time enough for you to examine one of my cages up close and personal, Hoagie Junior," the Children were saying to him, but 2 wasn't listening. His eyes traveled along the wires connected to the cages to the consol, and a small smile graced his face.  
  
"Nah," he said nonchalantly, "Not that curious." With those last words he dove for the consol and started searching for the control that would release his friends. He KNEW he'd read something about these cages, possibly when searching for information on the gun.  
  
"Danica, stop him!" commanded the Children. The teenager was at the consol in seconds and 2 ducked and scrambled out of her reaching arms, not bothering to be shocked at .19's apparent perfidy.  
  
"Stay still, you little brat!" she screeched, "This is for your own good!"  
  
"Yeah, like I've never heard THAT before," Numbuh 2 said, fighting off doctor's office memories. The screens above the consol changed from security camera images to a control menu for the cages. Numbuh 2 smiled wider as he pressed the final button to free his teammates.  
  
The cages immediately lifted into the ceiling, and each kid swiftly went into action. Numbuh 4 drew his mustard gun on the Children, "Move 'n those preppy clothes get a new dye job," he said triumphantly. The Children stayed stone still.  
  
3 and 2 together easily restrained .19, a two-handed grip on each of her wrists, "You don't know what you're doing!" she continued to protest, "I was just trying to help you!"  
  
Numbuh 2 jerked her arm and said harshly, "Save it." Even Numbuh 3 looked at .19 with anger-filled eyes.  
  
Numbuh 1 made for the consol and deactivated the force field and cage. This disabled the lock as well, since it was really only a highly electrified door which could possibly kill the prisoner if they tried to open it themselves. He opened the cage door with mounting fear as Numbuh 5 hadn't moved the entire time. Her face was ashen and he couldn't detect her breathing. A few burns trailed up her exposed arms and legs. He gently as possible eased her out of the cage, and she hung limply from his arms. Biting the inside of his lip, Numbuh 1 sank with 5 to the floor of the dungeon and hugged the girl tightly too him.  
  
All my fault, he told himself again and again, but paused for a moment. Pressing her against him, he quieted the urge to leap for joy as he felt a faint but steady heartbeat in her chest and, as her head lolled onto his shoulder, shallow breathing on his neck. He lifted his head to take in the other Kids Next Door.  
  
"Numbuh 5 okay, Numbuh 1?" 3 asked fearfully.  
  
"No, but she could be," he replied, "We have to get her out of here."  
  
"Right," 4 said, "Alright, Delightful Losers, stay where you are, and DON'T try ta' follow us or you'll get worse than a few mustard stains, that's a promise." He edged out of the room, keeping the gun on the Children, with 3 as Numbuh 1 and 2 carried 5 ahead of them. .19 watched them go without protest, just a sad sigh. All five Kids Next Door gratefully exited the mansion together.  
  
:::  
  
The doorbell rang through the treehouse at 8:45 in the morning. This time Numbuh 5's easy slumber was the first it penetrated. She stifled a groan when she caught sight of Numbuh 1 lightly dozing in a chair near her bed in the sick bay of the treehouse. Utilizing all her covert abilities, she silently exited the room and hurried toward the door. She knew she had to be quick, since 1 would most definitely freak out if he found out she had left her bed. 5 had repeatedly told her teammates she was fine, but all four stayed stubbornly in agreement that she needed bed rest. And far be it from her to say she wasn't enjoying all of Numbuh 1's attention, but that bit she kept to herself.  
  
Opening the door, she had to squint into the bright blue sky to see the faces of the two male teenagers.  
  
"Morning," one of them, a freckle-faced brunette, said with a polite smile, "I'm .33, and this is .12, we're from the Teen Division."  
  
Numbuh 5 eyed the pair suspiciously, not having forgotten their last encounter with a Teen Division operative, "Can ya' prove it?"  
  
.33 glanced at his partner with an amused look, "Geez, the last place you'd expect to get carded, huh?" .12 smiled at the joke, and .33 turned back to 5, "Yes, we can." He pulled out a wallet from his back pocket, and after flipping past his driver's license pulled out a similar card.  
  
5 examined it closely once he'd handed it to her, her gazing flicking from the small picture on the card to the teenager, "Dis don' look like you."  
  
.33 laughed again, "Yeah, growth spurts. Got that picture taken when I was fourteen," he shrugged, "What're you gonna do?"  
  
"Well, looks pretty official ta' Numbuh 5," she said after also scrutinizing .12's ID, "What's your business here, though?"  
  
.33 looked uncomfortable and sad a minute and didn't speak. .12, in little better a condition, spoke this time, "We're here about .19."  
  
5 nodded knowingly, "Ah, I see now. Well, best c'mon up den."  
  
In five minutes the rest of the team, along with .12 and .33, sat in the round of couches. Numbuh 1 had held off on the chastising of Numbuh 5 for getting out of bed until after the teenagers left.  
  
"We understand that you Teen Division operative turned on you-" .33 said, all business.  
  
"That's not entirely accurate," Numbuh 1 interjected, "It is at least my belief that she wasn't on our side from the beginning."  
  
"Is that how the rest of the team feels?" .33 asked, glancing at the other kids. Each ten year old nodded, "I see," the sad look returned to .33's face, "Well, there is that danger when you're in close contact with Teen Division missions."  
  
"So she was a real operative?" Numbuh 3 said timidly.  
  
.33 turned his heavy gaze on the Asian girl, "Yes... she was a part of my team." He lowered his head and .12 gave him a warm rub on the shoulder.  
  
"It'll be okay, man," the other teenager said solemnly.  
  
After taking a few deep breaths, .33 looked back up, "IHQ has decided from this incident that Teen Division operatives are, for lack of better words, better off alone. You'll probably receive a communiqué saying just that soon, but we felt it more proper to tell you in person. Make sure you understand that this is a confidential matter of the highest kind. .19 doubtlessly told you Teen Division doesn't get invited around much." No bitterness tainted his voice at the words as they had when .19 had informed them, it was just a fact, nothing to get upset about, "So, we're asking for your cooperation in putting this all behind us."  
  
"Make like it neva' 'appened," Numbuh 4 said. The blonde didn't look much happier than .33 at the moment. He had been truly hurt by .19's betrayal, especially since it meant every moment he'd spent with her had been a lie, everything she'd told him only said to distract him from the truth. He wasn't sure he'd be able to listen to the wonderful gift of music she'd given him without thinking how it was all a part of her deception.  
  
.33 didn't sugar-coat it, "Yes, like it never happened."  
  
"What was she like before she was bad?" Numbuh 3 asked.  
  
.33 smiled, much like .19, at the girl's innocence, ".19..." he began, the sadness on his face slowly fading into nostalgia, "She was something, one of the best operatives we had. She really cared about what she did, apparently too much I think, but that's besides the point. We all looked up to her, that IS the point, and I know she would've served you all with the same dedication she served Teen Division, if things had been different," he paused a moment, lost in the past, before saying, "I think we've used up enough of your time. C'mon .12, we got more to do today than rehash old times. Nice meeting you all. Remember: like it never happened." He and .12 let themselves out.  
  
"Like it neva' 'appened," Numbuh 4 repeated quietly, "Gotcha." He thought about what .33 had said about .19, and the times he'd spent with her. He could see what the teenager had meant, and decided then and there he would try to think about .19 as she was. He remembered listening to her sing. That was the real .19, he thought That wasn't a trick, that was real. He also decided he wouldn't let his anger ruin any chance for him and music.  
  
"Guess dat's how it works in secret ops," 5 said. She felt strange about the whole thing, but didn't say anything. She thought about her future. Would she go into the Teen Division when she got too old for the Kids Next Door? Could she, after seeing its possible effects on a perfectly normal girl? 5 silently thanked the Lord she was only ten, and didn't have to make those decisions for a while yet.  
  
"Do you hear that?" Numbuh 1 asked. All five kids cocked their ears, "New mission's here."  
  
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A/N: This chapter is over twice as long as nearly any other chapter I've ever written. I hope you all like it. Oh, and you don't have to bother saying in your reviews whether I should put in an epilogue or not, since I kinda already did. But review anyway, and hopefully I'll see ya' in my next fic! 


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